


Regular Maintenance

by ashandcas (ashriddle4)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Canon Universe, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Kissing, M/M, PWP, Sex, Sex in Cas's Lincoln, Sex in a Car, Top Dean, season 10
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:23:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashriddle4/pseuds/ashandcas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas gets turned on when he sees Dean doing work on Cas's Lincoln. Things escalate from there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Regular Maintenance

Sweat, grease. Tight black jeans, stretched tighter from bending over to reach into the engine. Biceps flex under a white t-shirt that’s streaked with black from the car. _His_ car. Cas’s car. The Lincoln Continental he’d hot wired and stolen last year.

Dean picks up a plastic water bottle beside the Lincoln’s front tire and presses the opening to his lips. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. Water escapes from his lips and dribbles down his chin, which is dark with stubble, drawing wet streaks down his neck.

Cas clenches his hands into fists, toes curling in his shoes. He’s been reacting this way for awhile now and he knows what it means. He hates himself for what it means.

Dean stands with his hand propped on the Lincoln’s open hood no more than a few years away from Cas. The sun glints down, reflecting on the road the runs in front of the bunker’s entrance and on the shimmery gold of the Lincoln. Dean turns toward Cas, blinking as their gazes meet.

“You needed new spark plugs,” Dean says, “And oil, and uh, wiper fluid.”

Cas swallows, trying to wet his desert-dry mouth. “Thank you, Dean.” The words come hoarser than he wanted them too.

Cas steps closer to Dean, following the millions of invisible tethers that connect the two of them. That have always connected them. He stands just a few inches from Dean. Close enough he can feel the buzz of life from Dean’s hand. He smells like Zest soap, like salt and engine oil, like Dean. Cas breathes out a shaky breath.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Cas whispers as he lays a hand on the Lincoln’s hot surface. If only the outside scorch would distract him from the one laying waste to him inside.

“Car’s gotta have regular maintenance,” Dean says easily.

“I could take it to a mechanic.”

The easiness in Dean’s demeanor shifts to something hard, impenetrable. “Can if ya want.”

 _No, no,_ Cas thinks, _that’s not what I-_

Cas places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, finding comfort in their physical connection as he always has. Dean turns back to him.

“I don’t mind, Dean, you just don’t have to.”

“Not doin’ it ‘cause I have to. I like working on cars.”

Cas smiles. “You like fixing things.”

Dean looks down. “Can’t fix most things.” Cas looks back up at Dean. “But I can fix your broken down pimp car.”

Cas scowls. “It’s not a pimp car, Dean.”

Dean laughs for the first time in what feels like weeks. Heat bubbles in Cas’s chest. Dean’s large, calloused hands returns to the metal machines under the Lincoln’s hood. “I’m gonna finish now.”

Cas blushes. Why do those words hit him like that? He didn’t mean – that’s not what Dean means or will ever mean – but Cas hears the words differently than their intent. He hears them said gruffly, breathlessly, against his ear as Dean presses him into the mattress.

Face scalding, Cas shoves the thought away, but it’s too late _way_ too late because he’s already hard. Dean stares at – _damn_ Cas needs to stop wearing pants that make this so easy to see.

Dean licks his lips. “Cas – are you?”

Shame washes over Cas. “Dean, I’m sorry.”

Dean’s breaths are more obvious than they were before. “Is it me?” Dean’s tone says he doesn’t believe anyone could want him and that is unacceptable.

Cas straightens, looks at Dean seriously. Dean’s coming reaction is an unknown to Cas. He’ll likely tell him to fuck off and never come back, but Cas says it anyway, “Yes. It’s you. Always you, only you.”

“Shit, Cas. Shit, shit. I can’t.”

 _That makes sense_ , Cas thinks, _it makes perfect sense._ Still, the words make him feel like he’s been kicked between the ribs.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go.” Cas turns, shaking, but a hand grips his wrist.

“If you go now,” Dean growls. “I’ll hunt you down and fuck you wherever I find you.”

“ _Dean.”_ Cas is shattering.

Dean’s sure hands lock on Cas’s hips. Dean presses behind him and Cas feels the course of Dean’s body in line with his own. He breathes in Cas’s ear, wet and hot. “Don’t care where you are – don’t give a shit if you’re in heaven, darlin’, don’t care how many angels are watching… that chick you been running around with… don’t care. I’ll bend you over and fuck you right in front of her. You’re mine.”

“ _Please.”_

Dean spins Cas to face him. Black streaks mark his face, curve over his nose and the way it turns to one side just imperfect enough to be beautiful. Cas knows every pore, every detail.

“Don’t go. Stay, Cas, stay this time.” His voice is sincere, sweet, pleading. Cas would never say no to it.

“Of course.”

Dean smiles open, happy and alive. It is everything Cas wants. Dean clasps his hands onto Cas’s face and kisses him.

Dean Winchester is kissing him.

It’s hurricane force. Tongue, lips and teeth that drown Cas. He’s never wanted how he wants now because allowed to want it, to want Dean. His hands fist in Dean’s shirt. Cas licks into Dean’s mouth and tastes toothpaste.

Dean shoves Cas’s coat from his shoulders and it crumples on the hot road. Calloused, black-lined fingers open the button’s of Cas’s shirt and it joins the coat. Cas slips his hands under Dean’s shirt, runs them over the curve of his abdomen, made too thin, too stiff, by the mark. If only Dean had the freedom, the space, to be softer. Cas pulls the shirt off.

“Wanted this for so long, baby,” Dean whispers against Cas’s mouth. “Wanna be inside you. Can I? Tell me I can.” Dean’s voice is hoarse, desperate and Cas is as hard as he’s ever been.

“I want you to, Dean.”

That smile returns – that beautiful, carefree smile that lights Cas’s whole universe. Dean kisses Cas again and the movements, the sheer power in Dean Winchester’s touch, moves him until he’s backed against the Lincoln’s body.

Dean tears open the car door and pulls the passenger seat forward. “Get in the back, baby.”

Cas does as he’s told. Before he knows it, Dean joins him in the back. Strong, heavy muscles crush him, press out his breath in a stupefying, dizzying way.

Dean works open Cas’s belt as his tongue makes circles around Cas’s nipple. Tingles shoot through Cas’s body like he’d ran his fingers over a lightning bolt.

Dean’s hands shake so Cas helps him undo the belt. Dean leans back watching, staring, as Cas unzips himself, pushes down his boxers-

Dean regains control. His lips crush Cas’s, his tongue dips a little between open teeth. Strong, sure hands pull Cas’s pants and boxers the rest of the way off, taking his shoes and socks with them. Dean chucks the clothes into the front seat.

Dean works off his own jeans and Cas isn’t stupid. He isn’t going to miss this. He thinks his heart stops when he discovers that the jeans were the only thing covering Dean’s red, wet cock.

“Beautiful, Dean.”

Dean blushes. “Not so bad yourself.” Without warning, Dean pushes up Cas’s legs, stretches them apart and presses his thumb to Cas’s rim. Cas gasps – no one has touched him there before. Well, except-

“Shit, I forgot.”

“What, Dean?” If Dean stops now, Cas will die.

“Lube.”

“Don’t need it.”

Dean snorts and grabs Cas’s face. He kisses him hard. “Yes, you do, you dummy.”

He’s embarrassed to say it, though he’s not sure why. Not now. “I’ve got some in the glove compartment.”

Dean grins, it’s wicked and sweet at the same time. “Holy hell, Cas. What’d ya do with it?” Dean nibbles on Cas’s earlobe, drawing out a small whimper.

“With what?”

“The lube.”

“I-uh-“

“Hang on,” Dean leans into the front from the lube. Moments later, he returns and presses the cold, sticky lube inside Cas. A familiar sensation, but still new because it’s Dean’s fingers and not his own. Actually, it’s Dean’s thick, curving thumb.

Cas arches off the fake-leather seats and moans.

“Now tell me what you’ve done with this,” Dean says breathily.

The lube. Dean means the lube. Cas forces himself to be coherent and answer Dean’s question.

“I touched myself.”

“Yeah, baby, I’ll bet you did. You touch your dick?”

Cas nods. “At first, but, uh, after awhile, I needed more.”

Dean smirks. “More?”

Dean’s pointer finger presses in beside his thumb and Cas shouts.

“You’re so loud. I love it.”

“I used to – touch myself- the way you’re doing now, thinking of you.”

“God,” Dean growls as he adds another fingers. So full, Cas thinks, he’s been this full before, but not like this, not without control, without knowing where he will be touched next. It’s dazzling.

“Please, Dean, I need-“

“Tell me what you need.”

“I want you inside me. I’ve always wanted you there.”

Dean pulls out his fingers, lines himself up. “Where you belong, huh? On my cock?”

Those words in Dean’s mouth. Nothing like them. Nothing in history.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Dean presses inside, slow, strong, inch-by-inch until yes it’s all the way there. Nothing so much, so perfect. Dean gasps for air and bends down to kiss Cas, putting all he has into their lips.

“You’re fantastic like this,” Dean breathes against Cas’s lips. “So good. Wanna move. Cas, can I move?”

Cas nods. He wants it to.

Dean balances on his hands and grins. He pulls back and thrusts in. Should be fast, like a machine gun, an intoxicating overwhelming violence. It’s not that way at all. His movements are powerful the way a tide is powerful. Dean like this could command the sea to move and it would obey. Gentle, desperate, he hits that spot over and over again. Pleasure coils in Cas. He can only contain it for so long.

Cas shouts. He lets out the _Dean please, oh god, just like that, more, more, more fuck me, yes_ that have been burning his throat.

“Waited so long to have you like this. So pretty, God, you’re so pretty on my cock.”

Cas is close, wrung out and pleading. Letting Dean have him like this, let alone in the back of his own car, has been a long time coming and giving it is so good, so, so good. Dean’s hand is wrapped around Cas’s cock and it’s moving with Dean’s thrusts.

“I’m gonna finish,” Dean groans and those words make Cas come too. They come together, panting into each other’s mouths.

Dean goes slack on Cas, slipping out naturally as he presses his wet mouth into Cas’s neck. “Love you, baby,” Dean mutters, “Love you so much.”

It’s the _love you_ that does it – and Dean’s voice, his real one.

 

. . .

 

“Cas, I can’t fucking concentrate on fixing your car when you’re staring at me. Jesus, man, go back inside you weirdo. I’ll be in in a few.”

Dean’s words seem to shock Cas out of some distant thought, but then he nods. “Sorry Dean.”

Dean watches Cas go back inside. He waits just long enough before reaching down to the hardness between his legs. Cas’s face had been red, his eyes wide, his lips chapped. He’d been staring for like a long ass time. How the fuck was Dean supposed to react?

Dean unbuttoned his jeans.

Fuck, Cas would fucking hate him if he knew the dirty shit Dean was thinking right now – and what he was about to do in the front of seat of Cas’s Lincoln Continental.

 

 


End file.
